creator_raven (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
creator_raven) wrote2005-07-27 07:54 pm
creator_raven) wrote2005-07-27 07:54 pm
After Oberon's defeat
[Monday, July 25, after Oberon]
It is a fairly small thing to slip quietly through the bar and up the stairs. Simpler still to open the door to his room and lock it behind him.
The complication comes in deciding what to do next. Raven stands, for a moment, blinking at chair blocking his way to the bed.
burn
He shakes his head, and pushes it to the side instead, taking several more steps into the room. He toes off his shoes and picks them up, then sets them aflame. He repeats the process with his jeans, and his underthings, and his shirt.
The coat, with its faint patterns of old blood and even fainter scent of burnt flesh, he keeps, laying it over the back of the chair.
He stretches, rubs at the back of his neck, and steps into the shower. He blinks at the sudden onrush of cold water, and tamps down his reflexive summoning of Power. It hurts, a bit, and he shivers. It is not entirely unpleasant, and he laughs, tiredly. He scrubs a hand over his face, then tilts his head into the spray.
Long minutes later, he turns the water to warm. After another stretch of time, he steps out of the shower.
It is the work of a moment to pull a new set of clothing from the chest of drawers, though as he does so, he notices that his nail polish is chipped. He blinks at it for a moment, then smiles, very slightly. With the barest exercise of will, and a soft hum, the polish is once more perfect. It will remain so for several more days, at least.
Raven looks at it a moment more, then shakes his head, again, and goes to sleep.
If he wakes up in the middle of the night, shifts to raven-shape, and sleeps on the perch Ace gifted him with, it is no one’s business but his own.
It is a fairly small thing to slip quietly through the bar and up the stairs. Simpler still to open the door to his room and lock it behind him.
The complication comes in deciding what to do next. Raven stands, for a moment, blinking at chair blocking his way to the bed.
burn
He shakes his head, and pushes it to the side instead, taking several more steps into the room. He toes off his shoes and picks them up, then sets them aflame. He repeats the process with his jeans, and his underthings, and his shirt.
The coat, with its faint patterns of old blood and even fainter scent of burnt flesh, he keeps, laying it over the back of the chair.
He stretches, rubs at the back of his neck, and steps into the shower. He blinks at the sudden onrush of cold water, and tamps down his reflexive summoning of Power. It hurts, a bit, and he shivers. It is not entirely unpleasant, and he laughs, tiredly. He scrubs a hand over his face, then tilts his head into the spray.
Long minutes later, he turns the water to warm. After another stretch of time, he steps out of the shower.
It is the work of a moment to pull a new set of clothing from the chest of drawers, though as he does so, he notices that his nail polish is chipped. He blinks at it for a moment, then smiles, very slightly. With the barest exercise of will, and a soft hum, the polish is once more perfect. It will remain so for several more days, at least.
Raven looks at it a moment more, then shakes his head, again, and goes to sleep.
If he wakes up in the middle of the night, shifts to raven-shape, and sleeps on the perch Ace gifted him with, it is no one’s business but his own.